


Soothquick

by curiouselfqueen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hogwarts, M/M, Quidditch, Quidditch Captain Oliver Wood, catch the personal headcannon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-07 20:58:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14679375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiouselfqueen/pseuds/curiouselfqueen
Summary: Percy's enjoying a quiet morning in the dormitory when Oliver stumbles in with an injury from Quidditch practice.Prompt answer to: Percy x anyone of your choosing. “Do you…well…I mean…I could give you a massage?”





	Soothquick

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Annabelle_Rivers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annabelle_Rivers/gifts).



> Like everything, this was originally posted on tumblr as an answer to a prompt:  
> Percy x anyone of your choosing. “Do you…well…I mean…I could give you a massage?”

The sixth year boy’s dormitory in Gryffindor tower was  _quiet_.  Sunlight filtered through the window, casting a faint diamond pattern stretching across the floor, and warming the back of the room’s only occupant as he sat at his desk.  The scratching of a quill was the only sound in the room.

Moments like these were precious few, and Percy basked in them whenever they came along.  He had waited to get up that morning until everyone was gone.  Oliver had Quidditch practice and he heard his other roommates making plans that would keep them at least a few hours after breakfast.  So Percy had stayed quietly behind his bed curtains until they had all left, gotten up, requested tea and toast from the house elves and slowly showered and got dressed in private.

Now, he sat back in his chair and read over the last few paragraphs he had written as he stretched out his hand.  Writing this much always gave him a cramp.  Still reading, he pulled out a jar from his desk drawer and rubbed some of the soothing salve into his palm.   _Soothquick, from the makers of Sleekeasy.  Guaranteed to ease and relax muscles from mild to severe discomfort.  Good for small cramps and aches as well as an aid in repairing torn muscles and other major injuries._

Percy was absorbed in his own thoughts, massaging his thumb into the palm of his writing hand and rereading his letter.  Were Fred and George there, they would have found this to be their favorite time to sneak up on their brother.  Percy didn’t hear the dorm room open.  He didn’t even see Oliver hobble across the room in his Quidditch kit.  Despite the fact that the Captain’s bed was right next to his own, Percy didn’t even hear him taking off his gloves and pads.

Then Oliver fell face-first onto his bed and let out a pained-yet-slightly-mollified moan.  Percy’s thumb paused, he tried to remind himself to  _keep breathing_  as he quickly realized within a few seconds that he was not alone in the room, that Oliver had come back from practice early, that he should not be thinking about  _why_  he knows that was Oliver moaning, and  _just keep working._

Percy shifted a bit in his seat, picked up his quill, then set it down again, moving the jar of Soothquick of to the side, picked up the quill again, pushed up his glasses and cleared his throat.

“You’re back from practice early.”

A groan sounded from the bed next to him.  Percy shifted in his seat again ever so slightly and chanced a glance over at Oliver.  His face was buried in the pillows, arms stretched out to the side, still in his Quidditch uniform.  Oliver hadn’t been at practice long enough to be truly this worn out, which was the only time Percy knew him to be this non-verbal.

The redhead shifted to look at Oliver clearly.  “Is everything alright?”

“Ourblagyyouyersgomewitabloger”

For a few moments the room was absolutely silent except for some birds faintly chirping outside.

“Sorry, what?”

Oliver turned his head to the side and repeated himself.  “You’re bloody brothers got me with a bludger.” 

“Oh!”

“Right in the back–”

“Well, you should - shouldn’t you go to see Madame Pomfrey? You could be seriously injured-”

“I’m fine, I’ll be fine.  They missed my spine, thank Merlin.  Just screwed up my muscles.  Best to sleep it off.”

Percy was not convinced that this was a proper solution to a possibly serious injury, but he also knew Oliver knew his way around Quidditch mishaps and wasn’t one to throw away the upcoming match on a macho need to avoid treatment.

As he turned back to his desk, Percy saw his jar of Soothquick, picked it up and said “Do you…well…I mean…I could give you a massage?”


End file.
